


Without Goodbye

by ZubbitheDuck



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Newt Scamander, Don't Judge Me, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, First Meetings, Late Night Writing, M/M, One Night Stands, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top Original Percival Graves, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 00:29:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14176647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZubbitheDuck/pseuds/ZubbitheDuck
Summary: Newt decides to go out on his own in night of New York, only to stumble upon a familiar stranger. It wasn't exactly what he had in mind for the night, but he wasn't one to complain.





	Without Goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> I have worked on this for some time and now I wanted it done and out of my mind. It is late and I will read it through tomorrow, because it is really late now and I need sleep. :c
> 
> I am Danish, English is not my first language, so do feel free to point out any spelling errors!
> 
> I hope you enjoy and do very much tell me if you want more or have any ideas you want me to put down in another fic.

Newt was once again on his way to New York. This time with his book ready and in his suitcase for Tina, as he had promised. It would be nice to see both Tina and Queenie again after a year. The only contact they had had was a few letters back and forth, but it was hard finding time in his schedule. 

Also, Madam Picquery had asked for Newt’s help with illegal breeding of Jarveys. So he took the opportunity to get back to the US. 

He stepped out into the big city, consumed by noise and people everywhere, minding their own lives and business. It was fascinating in some obscure way. But the important part was, that a spark of pink was visible in the crowd of humans dressed in dark clothes in this cold time. Why did he always visit New York when it was winter? 

He waved at the two girls, smiling brightly as they got closer. Queenie was the first one to pull Newt into a tight hug that nearly took his breath away, after that it was Tina’s turn, which was just as warm but a lot less tight. 

Then it was a friendly blur of greetings and ‘how you’ve been’s and what so. It was nice and Newt felt himself fill up with the friendly love oozing of the two sisters. It was like they were his sisters now as well. Those thoughts were probably best if he pushed the away, before Queenie sniffed them out and went whiney with it. 

They talked about nothing and everything on their way home. Apparently, both would have to be away to night, leaving Newt alone with the apartment. Until then, they would sit at home, enjoying a cup of tea and talk about what they had all been up to the last year. They both still worked at MACUSA, still as busy as always, Queenie frequently visited Jacob’s bakery, even though he didn’t remember her. It was sad, Newt missed him too and it was clear as day that she was still upset. 

The night rolled on and both girls had to leave, which meant that Newt had time to be with his beasts. Dougal was a bit sick and needed a little extra care right now. So he took his time, enjoying the sound of creatures feeding while he killed time. 

“So you better get well soon, Mr.” 

Newt pointed at Dougal whom just blinked his big eyes without any other remark. 

Newt slumped down on a bucket turned upside down with a sigh, leaning his head on his hand. Pickett crawled down his other arm, coming out of his hiding spot now that he felt safe again. Newt wouldn’t admit this, but he was a bit bored. He knew the two sisters couldn’t stay at home to night, so he didn’t blame them. 

“I could go out and see the city.”

He watched the Bowtruckle squeak at him before shrugging.

“No one said I had to drink, but it wouldn’t be bad for me to see other faces.”

Pickett didn’t look too impressed, to be honest, but then again, Newt rarely went out to just enjoy himself, and right now it was in a city where no one knew him and the chance of seeing them again was minimal.

“I’m doing it, Pickett. So you have to stay at the other Bowtuckles.”

He did put up a fight, the little guy, but eventually Newt had fixed his bowtie, messed up his hair and was out of the door, sneaking out giving that they still didn’t allow men in the house.

 

\---

 

The night was even colder now that the sun had been down for hours. It was an all-new clientele out here in the dark. Most already half drunk, laughing, loudly speaking, and walking in their group of friends. It felt weird to be out alone, but also weirdly comfortable to be this independent. Of cause, Newt knew only how to find the muggle bars here in New York, so that would have to do.

Newt continued down the street, holding his coat closer to fight out the cold wind that rushed down, powered by the tall buildings, biting through skin and bone. A cozy looking bar hiding in a corner was were the ginger choose to go for a drink, just one, that should be sufficient. He didn’t enjoy being drunk, that meant hangover the next day. That was just a waste of time.

He pushed open the heavy door, a smell of cigarette smoke and whiskey hit him with a welcoming warmth. There weren’t too many inside, it was small and the atmosphere was lazy, in a good way, so he stepped inside. 

A few people turned their heads, but gave him no more attention than that, and no one really caught his attention. Except one. The one who caught his eye were – had – been sharply dressed. Now his jacked was off, white sleeves rolled up, top buttons on his shirt was open, and tie pulled looser. One hand around a glass of scotch, the other were resting on the elbow, hand running through his black hair, pushing it out of his eyes, only for a few strands of hair to fall back into his eyes. 

Recognition hit him as a knot tied in his stomach. That was the real Percival Graves. Newt knew that they’d found him, and that he was still hired as Director at MACUSA, but for some reason it felt wrong that he looked so much like the Graves that Newt had met, doing the incident. Of cause they would look exactly the same, giving the circumstance. 

The other probably didn’t know Newt, at all, besides what he had been told, but when the other looked up and their eyes met, it was as if a sheen of surprise and disbelief flew through the others dark eyes. Newt stopped in his tracks, fighting himself as to whether he should go over and say hi or not. There gaze never broke. Newt felt himself moving towards the other sitting at the bar. 

“Mr. Scamander, if I’m right?”

Graves’ voice was rough from the strong liquor. He straightened his back, once again pushing his hair back to look a little more decent. Newt nodded before replying;

“Just Newt. And you would be Mr. Graves?”

The gave a single nod, looking at Newt like he was searching for something.

“Percival. I guess I owe you an apology.” 

His eyes fell to the table shortly before their eyes met again. Newt couldn’t help but smile, just a little. 

“You can’t really apologize for things you didn’t do.”

Percival was about to interrupt, but Newt raised a brow, giving the other a stern look that made him close his mouth again. He nodded, a slight smile playing on his thin lips.

“Then at least let me buy you a drink.”

Newt couldn’t argue with that, so he sat down, watching as Percival got the waiters attention, serving two new glasses of scotch. It was a bit harsh alcohol for Newt, but it would do. He took in the smell of the rich liquor before looking over at the other.

“To a new start?”

Newt held out his glass for a toast. It was a cliché word choose, but it fitted just fine in this occasion. Percival’s smile grew a little wider as their glasses clinked together. Newt took a sip, the scotch burning down his throat and he had to cough as the warmth spread down his body. The other smirked, taking a sip himself without even pulling a face.

When the fire had stopped, Newt finally found his voice again.

“Why are you drinking alone in a Mug- I mean, No-Maj bar?”

Percival gave a soft sigh, looking down into his glass, obviously thinking about his answer. 

“Ever since the incident, people tend to-…”

A rumbling sound escaped his throat as he stopped speaking, side-glaring away from Newt. Newt kept patient, since it really wasn’t something he should stick his nose into.

“People tend to remember me, or my face. Even though it wasn’t technically me, they still keep their distance.”

Newt would be honest and say that he maybe understood them. Newt did the same moments before when he came in. It still wasn’t fair. More so, it was sad that the Director was at a Muggle bar, drinking scotch, alone. 

After that, Percival ask into the things he’d been told about Newt. About his work with his beasts and for once, Newt actually felt like someone wanted to listen to his ramble about his beasts. Percival kept asking about it, keeping up the conversation and it was nice. It had been a good night to go out and enjoy himself.

Even though Newt had decided to only get one drink, it turned into three or more, he really couldn’t remember, and since he so rarely did this, the alcohol hit him harder and faster than expected. The conversation went on and on as they both got more careless. The rest of the bar was a blur, nothing destroying their bobble. 

Newt didn’t know when and why they chose to leave, but as they got outside, the cold air of the night made his drunken state even worse. 

 

\--- 

 

How he got from the cold wind of New York to a warm, stylish apartment, Newt really didn’t know. What he did know was that they were standing really close and that the other smelled like cigarettes and expensive cologne. They were about the same height, Newt only and inch taller or so. His blood was running south and he was breathing faster as Percival leaned closer. Lips so close to touching his, when a hoarse voice whispered through the sound of both of them panting.

“Can I kiss you?” 

Newt gave a breathy ‘yeah’ before he felt the others lips against his. It was delicate and soft, even under the influence of alcohol. Maybe it was slobby, but Newt’s mind was to foggy to sense that. A pair of strong hands made their way to his hips, pulling him closer to that hard chest. It wasn’t the only hard thing poking into him, but he wasn’t in a better state himself. 

A low rumbling sound ran through the older one’s throat as he deepened the kiss slightly. Newt tangled a hand into his dark hair, pulling him even closer before breaking the kiss to get air.

“Take me to bed.”

Newt heard himself command and his cheeks went pink, not only for from the drinks this time. 

With a hand tightly wrapped around his wrist, Percival pulled him into the bedroom and literally threw the lighter male on the bed before climbing over him, kissing up his neck to his lips. They were both wearing way too much, and they had to do something about that. Newt grabbed Percival’s shirt, ripping it open so that buttons flew everywhere. His tie was in the way too, and in Newt’s drunken state, the only way to fix that was to throw it over the others shoulder, which only made Percival laugh lowly. A mumbled spell left them both naked from top to toe.

He was handsome even with scars covering his body, some still an angry red color, glowing on his light skin. Newt traced a finger down one that ran all the way from his collarbone to the bottom of his ribs, crossing down from left to right. It had been messily stitched, but Newt had an urge to gently kiss it. A hand caught Newts in a tight grip and he moved his eyes up to meet the others. His dark eyes were hard with regret now.

“Don’t …”

“Sorry.” 

Newt pushed himself up again, capturing Percival’s lips, getting the other’s mind of the awkward situation. He snaked his hand down to Percival’s still hard manhood. Newt could hear the others breath hitch as he stroked him. He was on the larger side, bigger than Newt himself and it would have been intimidating if he was sober. Now, the more he watched Percival’s brow knit together and hear his panting get heavier, Newt wanted nothing more than to pleasure him with everything the other wanted. 

From there it all got messy. The kisses between them was all tongue. Both now had their hands on each other, but Newt wanted more. He was getting bolder by the second and he wanted the other all over him. He wanted those strong hands bruising his hips. The three thick fingers inside of him wasn’t enough. Every time they brushed up against his prostate, he would give a long, breathy moan, soaking in the others whispered praises. 

“Your perfect, Newt. Look at you.”

“I want you inside of me.” 

Newt mumbled between kisses before turning them over so he could straddle the other, already missing the fingers inside of him, but they would hopefully soon be replaced by that thick member pulsing right in front of him.

“Newt, you’re drunk.” 

The ginger moaned a desperate reply of agreement, grinding down against the hard member pressed against his own. 

“I don’t want you regretting in the morning.”

“I wont-“

“Newt, don’t. In the morning, when you’re sober.”

“Come on, Percy. I want it so much.”

It was whiney and desperate, the others hand’s tightly gripping Newt’s hips to stop them both from grinding against each other. The ginger whispered a lubrication spell onto his hand before stroking it onto Percival’s cock. The Director moaned, his muscles in his stomach flexing as he did his best not to buck into the feeling. 

“Newt, I can’t stop myself if you keep that up.”

Percival sounded pained and torn but Newt wanted this too much to stop. He got up on his knees, guiding the tip to his entrance. 

The dark-haired man licked his lips, eyes on his own member as Newt slowly sank down. His drunken mind had made it seem so easy, but now that half of it was inside of him, it felt impossible. The alcohol did numb the pain, which made it all the more tingling and wonderful. 

Percival’s finger dug into the soft skin on Newt’s hips, surely leaving marks for the next day. The other thrusted up hard, going in the rest of the way and making Newt whine loudly at the feeling, mouth open, head thrown back as the tell-tale burn in the pit of his stomach told him that his orgasm was nearer than he wanted. 

They were once again moving with easy, even though Newt’s head felt like spinning. It was all becoming too much and he had a hard time focusing on the other. 

His climax hit him hard and fast, and his mind went foggy.

\---

Newt’s head was galloping and his stomach was acting weird. He groaned before blinking his tired eyes. The early sunlight hurts like hell and so did his backside. At least the duvets were warm and the bed soft. There was a soft snoring besides him, rhythmically breathing that was kind of soothing for his hungover mind.

He turned to the sound with a flinch, shifting under the luxurious, fluffy duvet. The man besides Newt looked so peaceful, his black hair messy and floppy. Newt wanted to run his fingers through the soft strands, but realization hit him like a train. He hadn’t told the Goldstein’s that he would be away the night, so he had to be home before they woke up. 

He jerked completely awake, ignoring his sickly feeling and the soreness that ran through his whole body. His clothes neatly folded on a chair by the dresser. Newt hastily dressed before sneaking out the door. Without making too much sound, he went out without a note for the other. It was probably best that way, giving that their chances of seeing each other again was close to nought. 

Newt mumbled a teleportation spell, showing up in the guest bedroom at the two sisters. His hangover wasn’t too happy about the sudden movement, but he had to collect himself before sneaking out to the bathroom. 

Queenie was already up, clean clothes flowing around being folded in the air as she sipped her coffee. She looked up, smiling brightly and clearly surprised to see Newt up already. 

“You look like a mess, Newt, what have-“

Her eyes grew wide and she placed her cup on the table. Newt’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. 

“Oh my! … You slept with-“

“Queenie, keep out of my head and don’t mention this to anyone! Not even Tina.”

Newt voice was pitchy and he gave her a strict look, ignoring her huge smile that reached her ever-knowing eyes. He then headed for the bathroom. He smelled like a whorehouse and the soothing water might cure a bit of this funny feeling of hangover so he could get the day over with. Just the thought of having to take care of all his beasts made him exhausted.


End file.
